Goodbye
by our.broken.fairytale
Summary: "Goodbye Tate." Her lips whispered when they parted from his own.
1. Chapter 1

"Goodbye Tate." Her lips whispered when they parted from his own. When he opened his eyes, she was gone. And he cried.

This wasn't supposed to happen. How could everything have gone so wrong? He fell down and hugged his knees tightly to his chest, weeping like a child who was lost. Which he was. He was lost in the darkness that oozed from this house and the only light that could lead him from the dank and disgusting tunnel surrounded by evil was gone; it left because helping him from himself was too much for anyone to handle. He was a walking disaster.

'Goodbye' was much worse than 'go away' in Tate's eyes. Goodbye meant leaving and leaving meant forgetting and never coming back. Was Violet never coming back to him? Was his only source of existing never going to forgive?

Of course she won't forgive _you_, his mind whispered and the words echoed around his empty body and he hated how true they sounded. He had hurt her more than anyone ever deserved to be hurt. He promised to always protect her and by doing that, he damaged her himself. He made her cry. And he couldn't stand that. She was the one person that never deserved to cry.

Tate tried to get up but it was no use. His heart was too heavy with sorrow. His heart that disappeared from life and then was remade when Violet came to this house, was broken and crumbling and he thought, _yes, let it break. After everything, it's least it can do._

Everything came back to Tate in the next few moments, every kiss, every look, every hug, every word shared, every secret, every touch. All that could be gone, forgotten, never to be repeated because of him. And his body ached for her. Ached for one look, one graze of the hand, anything. He wanted her to come back and hold him and say that she loved him. He saw her face so clearly in his mind and wanted and wanted and wanted for it to go away but it didn't, it was glued there. To mock him. He couldn't have her. Not now. –Maybe- Not ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Tate figured out two things in the next decade.

1. Playing chess by yourself really wasn't that fun.

2. No matter how much you really want it, if somebody won't forgive you, let them be to heal on their own.

Days and months and years blurred into one with the only difference being light and dark and flashes of Violet's eyes.

Tate stayed in the attic or the basement or wherever Beau found it acceptable to be. Tate existed in hiding unless Hayden provoked him, someone had disturbed the new house owners or vandalizers need to be escorted off the premises. He only caught glimpses of Violet during those times or when she walked in on his and Ben's "hang outs". He only ever watched her a few times, just to see if she was alright.

She was. She wasn't happy. Who could ever be happy in place filled to the brim with people of sorrow or regret and guilt? But she was alright. Her dysfunctional name of a family was better off dead than alive and Moira's wisdom speeches kind of grew on her. She only had problems with the ones that cried for their lost babies or asked about appointments or wandered around muttering "Look what he did to me" or had fun by killing people that were already dead. She got along alright, alright as she'll ever get being chained to house filled with people that make you want to claw your eyes out… and she could never forget about the spot that only belonged to Tate, could she?

But Tate didn't know that. So he stayed away, letting the darkness in him run around and around and around until he shoved it out and then it was okay. For a little while at least. But he never hurt anyone. No no no, never. That would make Violet upset and Tate couldn't have that, he needed her. He couldn't screw this up. Not now. Not ever.

He craved her so much it was almost impossible to not go searching for her but he restrained himself because this is exactly what he deserved. He didn't deserve her. She was so amazing and he had hurt her. Crushed her.

Tate stood up and kicked the chess board, the voices overpowering and the pieces scattered and clanked around the room. Beau disappeared and Tate punched the wall over and over and over again until his knuckles spilt and deep red oozed from them. He punched it half heartedly again before sliding down the wall and putting his head between his knees, the tears making themselves known.

He let the tears fall willingly until the pull down stairs creaked and he felt someone in the room. They didn't say anything and he wondered if he should speak up or look at the intruder but decided against it and sniffled. The person continued to walk around the room, picking up the chess pieces and the chipped board before shuffling over to Tate. Tate heard the person arrange the pieces on the board in front of him but he couldn't look up to see who it was.

"Are you going to make your move? I'm trying to get checkmate in thirteen." The unmistakable voice said. Tate didn't look up in fear that if he moved, the dream would end.

His eyes were red and puffy and he kept stealing looks at her during the quietest game of chess he had ever played. It was quieter than when he played with himself and he wondered if the house was holding its breath because he sure was.

"Checkmate!" Violet said, beaming smugly. Tate stared at her. He hadn't seen her smile in what seemed like forever. Hell, he hadn't even been this close to her and he wanted so badly to lean over and kiss those delicate lips. But he stopped himself. It was good now, she was actually okay with being in the same room as him and that made him all warm inside and he didn't want the feeling to stop.

"Vi, I –"

Her smile fell. "Tate... dont." She got up and smoothed out her floral dress. Tate quickly gathered to his feet, moving a little closer to her.

She frowned and closed her eyes. "Go away."

The basement walls appeared before him.

* * *

><p>Reposting this to say that even though I want to and other people want me to and you guys have been so kind, I won't be updating this story. I'm a little lost on where to go and I just have so many other ideas I want to get out. I know I'll probably come back to this in the future but for now this it. Sorry.<p> 


End file.
